They're Special
by OddlyCas
Summary: Paige once said that those who work are Scorpion are special- and the Cyclone certainly is that. A series of one-shots surrounding our favorite geniuses, single mom and grumpy government agent (details inside).
1. Robots

**AN: **So, I'm a bit nervous about posting this, but after him-hawing over it for a few weeks, I decided that I should give it a shot. This is my first time posting a Scorpion FanFiction, though it's not my first time writing for this fandom. I'm totally in love with this show and the characters, but I'm still learning how to write them, so this might be a bit rocky at first... I hope you'll stick with me throughout it though, as I do hope to improve my writing of Scorpion fiction as time goes on.

This is just going to be a collection of Scorpion one-shots, as I don't possess the ability to write a consistent multi-chapter, haha. The stories will focus around the key member of the show, with varying themes. I normally just take one word and run with it, so please feel free to leave suggestions of words or scenarios that you would like to see in either the reviews or on my Tumblr. I can't guarantee how often I'll upload but I'll attempt to come on at least twice a week to upload a new chapter.

Anyways, enough of my yammering! Hope you enjoy the first of what I hope is many of my Scorpion one-shots! c:

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><p><strong>Robots<strong>

Ralph may be a genius, but Ralph is also a little boy.

And like most little boys, Ralph likes robots.

Granted, his fascination with the small machines stems mainly from his interest in general mechanics, but the young genius still finds robots just as interesting as any other boy his age.

Everyone in the Cyclone knows that Ralph takes a special interest in robotics, but Happy is the only one who approaches him about it. She offers to help him learn about robotics (_"I could build a better robot when I was five..."_), offers to help him build one (_"I did build a better robot when I was five"_), if he wants.

Ralph readily agrees and for the next five and a half weeks, the duo work tirelessly on their project.

They shoo away Toby and Paige's prying eyes, determined to keep their project under wraps until it's completed- and when it comes time for Paige and Ralph to return home for the night, the single mother has to practically pry the young boy away from his and Happy's work. Both Ralph and the mechanical prodigy lose sleep over the project, thinking of ways to not only solve any problems they encounter, but also thinking of ways to improve their small project.

It becomes a sort of obsession for the two, but once it's completed, they both agree that five and a half weeks of little to no sleep was well worth it.

Especially when they reveal the fully functional, pocket-sized Tyrannosaurus Rex robot to the rest of the Cyclone.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Phew, so there we go! This is just a short one to get started, but I've written a few one-shots already. I chose to start with this one simply because it's my favorite (so far, anyways). Reviews are encouraged, especially if you have any constructive criticism for me as that's the only way I'll ever be able to improve my writing. And as I said, please feel free to leave me a word or even a scenario and I will do my best to write it out for you in a future chapter. Thanks for reading!


	2. Distracting

**AN:** First of all, before I say anything else, I just want to thank everyone who has favorited/followed this story, and a huge thanks to those all who have reviewed! I will try to go through and reply to all of your reviews individually when I have more time, but I just want you all to know that I really do appreciate all the support and kind words you've all shown me since I posted this story!

And on another note, I am so sorry that it's been so long since I've updated. I've been without a computer until today, so I wasn't able to upload anything! But, the good news is, I do have quite a few stories written for this little collection, and due to me being so far ahead, updates should come more regularly (as all I have to do is transfer the stories into my writing program and then upload them here!).

Once again, thank you all so much for all of the wonderful support you've given and I am so terribly sorry (once more) about the wait!

Also, in case anyone notices, I did up the rating on this to T, just because of some swearing that occurs in a couple of the upcoming one-shots I have planned for this collection. (I also promise I'll make my AN's shorter in the future, I just wanted to apologize for the delay in updates!)

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><p><strong>Distracting<strong>

"Walter, what the hell is wrong with you?" Paige snaps, catching the genius' attention as she approaches his desk, "You've been staring at that wall for five minutes straight. I don't even think I saw you blink!"

Walter looks up at the woman in front of him, blinking slowly as he processes what she's saying. He keeps his eyes fixated on her face as he thinks of what he wants to say.

("_That tank top you have on is not very concealing and I'm trying not to stare because I'm your boss and that's not acceptable._")

("_I'm staring at the wall because if I look at you in those shorts my mind goes to a very dangerous place- a place I should not be venturing too when thinking about my college and friend._")

("_I'm staring at the wall because I've counted the freckles on your body ten times and I'm starting to wonder if there's anymore hidden under the little bit of clothing you are wearing_.")

("_I know the temperature in the garage is unpleasantly warm- hot, even- but the clothes you're wearing- or lack there of- are very distracting to me._")

("_Nothing's wrong with me, Paige, you're just... very, very distracting._")

A million thoughts and lines and words race through Walter's head as he stares at Paige's slightly reddened face ('_due to the elevated temperature levels in the garage_', he thinks briefly), before he shakes his head silently and gives her a smile full of forced innocence.

"Nothing's wrong with me, Paige," he says, shuffling a stack of papers on his desk in hopes of emitting a casual air.

The genius fully intends to lie then, giving the liaison some lame excuse ("_I'm just thinking about an experiment I haven't run on Cabe Jr. yet, one that could yield positive results in my search for a cure to MS, that's all_.") but his mouth exceeds his exceptionally large brain for the first time in his entire life and the words that come tumbling from his lips have nothing to do with an experiment on a mouse and a cure for MS but instead leave both Walter and Paige in a state of speechless shock.

"But you're just far too distracting."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So there it is, the second installment into this little collection of Cyclone one-shots! I actually had fun with this one (even though I wrote it at three in the morning whoops) and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, favorites and reviews are always encouraged and appreciated and feel free to leave any suggests/prompts for me (I promise I will try and write them out for you!). I will, hopefully, be making these one-shots a little lengthier in the future, so if you feel that these are too short, fear not for I will writing and uploading more involved one-shots soon enough. Thanks for reading!


	3. Tough

**AN: **Just wanted to say another big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to favorite/follow/review this story- all the positive feedback has inspired me to continue writing/working on more stories for you guys!

_**Chapter Warnings; **Mild curse words used in this chapter (nothing too bad)._

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><p><strong>Tough<strong>

Happy is tough.

It's a simple fact, one that every member of the Cyclone willingly accepts (after all, they'd be pretty stupid if they questioned the tiny mechanic's strength; pretty stupid and pretty dead).

Sure, Toby likes to push her buttons from time to time, questioning her toughness whenever her softer side shows (generally when she's working with Ralph, or when one of the team has been injured), but the behaviorist knows that Happy is undeniably tough.

He knows that growing up in a foster home tends to make kids grow up to be that way. Toby also knows that most kids that spend their life being shuffled from foster home to foster home tend to grow up to be many other things as well.

Troubled, distant, aggressive.

Happy is all of those things and more.

But more than anything, Toby knows, she's tough.

Growing up as just a number in the system of Foster Care is one thing, but growing up as just a number in the system of Foster Care and being placed in foster homes where all the kids are twice your size is a completely different beast.

One that Happy would have spent almost all of her life fighting.

She's pint-sized (though Toby would never admit that to her face- he values his teeth too much to do something as crazy as that), and the other kids in the homes she stayed at (and, Toby shudders to think, maybe even some of the adults) would have seen this as a weakness and attempted to exploit it.

And Happy, being the genius that she is, would have known that the only way to get the other, larger, children to lay off of her would be to fight back (and to fight back hard).

And so that's what she would have done.

She'd have fought and clawed and bit to prove to the others that she wasn't weak- to protect herself (any probably some of the littler kids as well, Toby thinks, because Happy might not like to admit it but she does care about other people).

She'd have done all of that and more, just to prove that she was anything but weak.

To prove that she was tough.

And by the time she left the care of her final foster home (at the age of sixteen), these actions (fighting, scrapping, doing whatever you had to in order to protect yourself and those who couldn't defend themselves) would have been second nature to the mechanic.

Being tough would have seemed normal to her.

Toby knows that her childhood is the main (and likely only) reason that Happy is (as he likes to say) as feisty as she is.

When he thinks about it, her past and all the pain that she endured, it saddens the behaviorist to think of how rough her life must have been before Walter found her, paying people to be her stand-in at those fabrication competitions.

And at times, Toby even wishes that Happy would be a bit sweeter to him and the others (mainly him, though, if he's completely honest).

But in the end, Toby decides (as he watches the small woman knock some jackass' teeth down his throat; _"That's what you get for calling Sly a freak, you son of a bitch!"_), he really wouldn't want Happy to be anything other than the tough, kick-ass mechanical genius that she is.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>This one was a bit of a challenge for me, if I'm honest. It took me awhile to get all of my thoughts organized enough for this to read as a cohesive piece, but in the end I like how it turned out. Also huge shout out to the amazing folks on Tumblr who helped me out with the bit about fabrication competitions. Thanks again to everyone who read/follows/reviews, it's greatly appreciated (and as always, feel free to leave prompts for me as I will try to write them out for you!).


	4. Snow

**Snow**

The first time Ralph sees snow is in California, in a garage owned by his mentor and friend. The snow is fake of course, but the geniuses who built the machine that dumped the snow all over the garage had gone all-out and had been sure to make the snow as real as possible. It laid on the floor of the garage for hours before the team had swept it away- it even melted when you applied heat to it. Ralph had made snowballs and (with the aid of Toby) had even constructed a snowman that had held up for hours (until he and Toby plowed into it like a two man wrecking crew) out of the fake snow. The boy genius didn't think that real snow could ever compare to the snow that had fallen in the garage.

And he was right, in a sense.

The first time Ralph sees real snow is in Ireland, when he and the rest of the Cyclone make the long plane ride over the ocean in order to visit Walter's family. The snow there is very much real (and is very, very much cold) and at first the young boy isn't sure if he's fond of the powdery substance. It's freezing and no matter how much hot coco Walter's mother fixes him, he can't seem to chase the chill that's soaked into his bones. He fails to see how his mom (who has been so overly giddy about the entire trip from the get-go) can spend hours out in the harsh winter air, rolling around in the freezing snow and making what she calls "snow angels".

Eventually though, his mom is able to coax him back out into the snow (with the help of Walter) and Ralph does actually enjoy himself after awhile. Walter's father ventures out and (with the assistance of Walter) the two create a snow fortress, Toby helps him recreate the snowman they built back at Christmas, Happy and him team up during the major snowball fight and even Sylvester gets out in the snow (though he's not able to move very well, considering he's wearing at least a dozen layers of clothing; _"Frostbite is the leading cause of limb-loss during the Winter season!"_). Even Megan comes out to enjoy the snow for awhile and, though she doesn't leave the porch, Ralph can tell she's enjoying the colder weather by the way she smiles.

But, Ralph decides, the best part of his first time experiencing real snow is when he looks over at his mom and Walter, curled up together on the porch steps of Walter's childhood home, smiling like a couple of goof balls as they watch the others playing in the snow.

Overall, Ralph does enjoy his first time experiencing real snow. He enjoys the snowball fights, the snow forts, the snowmen and just spending time with the people have become his family over the past months. He enjoys the copious amounts of hot coco (though they did little to warm his cold frame), the smiles on his family's faces as they goof off in the snow. He enjoys all of it, really.

But it still doesn't compare to the first time he sees snow, in California, in a garage owned by his friend and mentor.

And even though the snow he sees in California is fake, it still holds the best memories for the young boy- because it's the first time since his dad left all those years ago that he's seen his mom smile so happily.

And it's the first time since his dad left all those years ago that he feels like he really, truly, has a family.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So this one probably reads a bit weird; I really should stop writing and then uploading when it's almost four am, haha. It's been snowing almost non-stop where I live (though it hasn't snowed all day and even warmed up a tad but oh well) and I decided a little Ralph one-shot involving snow was in order. Also, we're just going to pretend it snows a lot in Ireland for the sake of this story (because as far as I know, it doesn't snow all that much?).

Anyways- thanks again, so much, for all of the amazing feedback and support I've received on this story! It means a lot and it keeps my writing! Reviews/Faves are, as always, encouraged and appreciated! And of course, please feel free to leave me prompts either here via review/pm or through my Tumblr; I will do my best to write them out for you!


	5. Dance

**AN: **I wasn't intending to upload again so soon, but I got a couple of requests for a Waige one-shot and this idea came to me this morning. I loved the way it turned out, personally, and I wanted to post it ASAP. Hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Dance<strong>

Walter can hear music coming from her apartment the moment he steps off the elevator. He looks around the empty hallway, momentarily wondering if the noise bothers her many neighbors, before walking the familiar path from the elevator to Paige's apartment.

The genius doesn't knock when he gets to the door (she's expecting him, so he knows it'll be unlocked) and simply twists the knob, pushing the door inward as he walks through the opening. What Walter had already thought was loud music is amplified even more so once he steps into the small apartment and closes the door behind him. The annoying up-beat tune makes the genius cringe inwardly (_'how can she listen to music like this?',_ he thinks) as he shrugs off his coat and tosses it onto one of the empty hooks in the entryway.

He looks towards the couch, expecting to see Paige curled up in her usual spot, but finds the furniture surprisingly empty. As he stands just inside the door of the apartment, a wondrous smell wafts it's way over to his nose. Inhaling deeply, Walter grins as he recognizes the scent of Paige's cooking. Assuming the liaison must be near the stove, the genius makes his way through the living room, heading towards the tiny kitchen.

As he nears the small island that serves as Paige and Ralph's dining table, Walter spots Paige just in front of the stove, carefully stirring a pot of sauce. He takes a moment to appreciate her outfit (the short-shorts she's wearing leave little to the imagination, if he's perfectly honest) before the genius opens his mouth to alert the liaison to his presence. He pauses as he hears the faint sound of Paige's voice. It's then that Walter realizes that the woman is singing along to whatever song was playing out of the speakers of her radio, her voice so soft it was almost completely swallowed up by the volume of the music. As silently as he can manage, the genius takes a few steps off to the side as to not alert Paige that he was standing close by. Focusing all of his attention on the woman in front of him, Walter concentrates on the sound of her voice, picking it out from the sound coming out of the stereo.

"She took my arm... I don't know how it happened..." he hears her murmur, voice in perfect tune with the music, "We took the floor and she said; 'Oh, don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me'..." Walter watches in fascination as Paige starts to slowly sway to the beat, never missing a word of the song as she dances in small circles in the cramped kitchen.

"Shut up and dance with me," Paige sings softly, the words catching the genius' attention. Walter stays in his spot, tucked off to the side of the room, watching in amazement as Paige continues her dance, stirring the pot in sync with the beat of the music. He pays close attention to the words coming out of the liaison's mouth as he listens to her soft voice. Before long, the song slows to an end, causing Walter to frown as Paige stops her dancing.

Deciding to make his presence known (he feels slightly creepy leering at her from the dark corners of her apartment), the genius steps back towards the kitchen and clears his throat, just as the start of another song begins to drift through the speakers. Paige shrieks and spins around, jumping backwards as she's startled by Walter's sudden appearance.

"Oh my God, Walter! You scared the hell out of me! Do you have any idea how terrified I was just then? Goodness, give a woman some warning!" the liaison exclaims, leaning her weight against the counter closest to the stove as she clutches one hand over her heart, "My heart is literally thundering right now, hones- Walter are you even listening to me?"

Walter's eyes flick from Paige to the stereo. Was he listening to her? Of course he was, he always listened to her. Was he also listening to the song that was currently playing? Yes, because (though it takes him a moment to recognize the tune) the genius realizes that it's the same song that was playing before.

"Dammit," Walter mumbles to himself, mentally cursing himself for making his presence known so soon. If he'd have waited just a few seconds longer, he would have realized that the song playing from Paige's stereo was the same as before, and he might have been able to watch Paige resume her singing and dancing.

"Walter, hey! Quit ignoring me," the liaison snaps, catching the genius' attention. Walter blinks a few times before nodding his head in acknowledgment to the woman in front of him.

"Sorry," he says, making his way around the kitchen island so he's standing next to the stove, a few feet away from Paige. Leaning his weight against the counter, the genius does his best to focus on his friend and not the song that is (strangely) more appealing to him now.

"How, uh," he hears Paige stutter over her words slightly and it catches his attention, "How long were you there?" Walter smirks slightly, tilting his head off to the side and watching in amusement as Paige's cheeks flush ever so slightly.

"Long enough," he says lightly, shrugging as if it's no big deal. The song is still drawing attention from the genius, and he does his best to commit the lyrics to memory and focus on Paige at the same time.

"Oh God, you saw that whole thing I did then, didn't you?" Paige asks, cheeks burning red as she covers her face with one hand. Walter chuckles slightly, taking the wooden spoon off of the counter and giving the sauce a stir.

"I might have," he says, glancing over at the woman next to him as he bangs the spoon against the pot before setting it back on the counter.

"Oh that's just lovely," Paige breathes, shaking her head in embarrassment. "Don't laugh at me, it's a good song," she defends, reaching into the cupboard behind her to retrieve two bowls for the food. Walter makes a strange face before nodding slowly, as if agreeing with the woman.

"Who sings it?" he asks after a moment, watching carefully as Paige spoons pasta into the bowls. The liaison arches an eyebrow, looking over at the genius briefly before shrugging her shoulder and moving to ladle sauce over the noodles.

"Some band called Walk the Moon, I think," she says, nodding her head towards the radio, "You can check my phone though, it's set on repeat. Why'd you want to know?" Walter shrugs his shoulders, turning his back to Paige as he grabs two wine glasses from the cabinet above her sink.

"Oh my God, you like the song."

Walter tenses slightly, his actions halting as the liaison calls him out. He quickly regains his composure, collecting the glasses and setting them on the counter before turning to look at the woman next to him.

"Not hardly. You know how I feel about this type of music. _Your_ type of music," he says, grabbing a bottle of wine from above Paige's fridge and filling the glasses half full before replacing the bottle back into it's spot. When he spins to face Paige, he's shocked to find her right next to him. The liaison's proximity causes the genius to gulp, earning him a sly (albeit short lived) smirk from the woman.

"No no," she chides him gently, poking a slender finger into his side, "You don't get to deny this one. You have to tell me."

"This one?" Walter asks before he can stop himself, one eyebrow arching in a silent challenge.

"You deny that art has meaning but you stole a priceless painting just so you could return it to it's rightful owner. You deny having emotions most of the time, but then you go and tell me that you care about Ralph," Paige says quickly, as if she's had practice reciting this list. She ticks the items off on her fingers as she goes, listing a few more examples before pausing in her actions, "Need I continue?" Walter frowns, looking over towards the stereo quickly before focusing his eyes back on Paige.

"Fine. I like the song. Happy?" he states, and he wants to be upset with the woman but the grin that forms on her face is infectious and he can't bring himself to be bitter with her, even as she continues to poke fun at him, and he returns the smile.

"Why do you like it?" she questions. Walter tenses at the question, shrugging his shoulders for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

"I just... do."

"No, that's not a good enough answer."

Walter sighs at the woman's tenacity, knowing he would have to give her some form of an answer if he wanted the topic to be dropped. Paige smiles at him, offering him her encouragement as she patiently waits for the man's answer. He shifts uncomfortably for a few moments before taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts.

"I..." he begins, sighing and glancing at Paige's eager face. He listens to the song for a few seconds more, absorbing the lyrics that drift through the stereo speakers. One line in particular catches his attention- '_This woman is my destiny'- _and Walter hesitates, reconsidering his words. Was he really okay with admitting... _that_, of all things, to Paige?

"I like the song because if reminds me of you." Apparently so.

Paige's eyes widen and her breathing stutters erratically for a moment before she forces it to even out. She stares blankly at the genius in front of her for several moments before her eyes light up and a gentle smile spreads across her lips. Walter crosses his arms, eyes looking anywhere but at her. Cautiously, so as not to spook him, Paige raises her arms upward and places them lightly around Walter's neck, causing the genius to jump slightly.

"P-Paige?" he stutters as she presses herself against him gently. In order to avoid inadvertently groping the woman in front of him, Walter drops his arms from his chest, letting them rest at his sides as he stares down at Paige in bewilderment.

"Shh," she whispers softly, the smile on her lips growing even wider as she slowly sways to the beat of the music, bringing Walter with her as she slowly twirls them around the kitchen as the song restarts itself once again.

"'Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me'," she sings softly, earning her a grin from Walter as he slowly raises his arms to rest his hands on her hips while they move in time with the music.

"I said 'you're holding back', she said 'shut up and dance with me'... This woman is my destiny," Paige smiles as she sings, her warm breath tickling Walter's cheek as she moves close to him, "She said, 'Ohh ohh, shut up and dance with me...'" Eventually the liaison drops her head onto his shoulder, singing the rest of the words into the fabric of his shirt as he pulls her closer to him.

Walter isn't sure how long they stay like that, wrapped around each other, but by the time they do pull themselves apart, their food is icy and their wine is bitter (not that either of them mind all that much).

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>So there we are! I hope this satisfies everyone who was asking for a Waige one-shot. Like I said, I personally am fairly fond of this one, but I always love to hear what YOU have to say on the chapters, so please drop me a review and tell me what you think! And as always, feel free to leave me a word/prompt and I'll do my best to deliver what you ask for! The next chapters will be about Sylvester and then Quintis, respectfully, since I've been neglecting them so far.

Also, for anyone wanting to know, the song that they're dancing/Paige is singing is called "_Shut Up and Dance_" by Walk the Moon. It's one of my favorite songs and I have a really easy time applying it to Waige, which is why I decided to use it as the song for this chapter. I always imagine Paige to be the type to dance around her kitchen and sing while she's cooking, so I thought it would be a fun idea to play with.

Hope you enjoyed!


	6. Fear

**AN: **I just want to apologize in advance for this. I have no idea where this came from; it started completely different, just a break down of certain things but... I don't know. It got dark pretty fast. I do want to say that everything I put in this chapter, within reason, are actually what I think regarding Sly's back story/home life prior to Scorpion.

**Chapter Warnings (sorry):  
><strong>_Mild cursing and scenes involving child abuse_.

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><p><strong>Fear<strong>

"Fear," Sylvester says softly, writing the word in large letters on the blackboard in front of him. He lifts the chalk from the board, holding the white stick between his thumb and his forefinger as he stares at the word scrawled in large, white text.

He takes a moment to look around the garage. He's the only one on the main floor of the garage, and the near-silence of the almost-completely-dark building causes the hair to prickle on the back of his neck. He knows that Walter, Paige and Ralph are all upstairs in the loft. He knows that if he needed them, they would be at his side in an instant.

But still, the genius finds himself becoming more and more unnerved, staring into the darkened end of the garage.

He really wishes he'd have told Happy to leave one of the lights on before she had left for her dad's mechanic shop. Or that he would have at least thought enough to tell Toby to leave his music play before he'd hurried out the door, headed for the casino.

He briefly considers calling Walter down to turn some of the lights on for him, but he doesn't want to interrupt (what Toby calls) his family time with Paige and Ralph. The idea of disrupting their bonding time makes Sylvester frown, and so he stays firmly rooted to his spot in front of his chalkboard with his lips pressed firmly together.

The chalkboard.

Sylvester turns back to the chalkboard and stares at the word he has written there.

Fear.

That's all this is.

Nothing more than stupid, illogical fear.

This is Scorpion HQ, not a back alley outside some shady bar on the bad side of town.

It's the garage.

It's his home.

It's his safe haven.

But still, the human calculator's eyes are drawn back to the endless darkness that is the back end of the garage.

'_There's nothing back there, Sylvester_,' he thinks, willing himself to calm down, '_There's nothing back there, and you're being a baby_.'

Shaking his head, Sly forces his eyes back onto the blackboard in front of him. He turns the piece of chalk in his hands and begins writing just underneath the word he already has, reading aloud as his the stick scrapes against the board (it's a sound that the genius finds, oddly, comforting).

"Fear; noun; an emotion triggered by impending danger or harm," he reads, writing the words quickly. He looks at the definition of the word, reading it over and over and over again before his eyes wander towards the empty part of the garage. He swallows the thick lump that has formed in his throat and turns back to the board, adding in parentheses next to the definition; '(rather the danger or harm is real or imagined)'.

Sylvester takes a small step back from the board and re-reads his writing, nodding as he goes. His eyes flick between the board and the darkness and he sucks in a breath as he forces himself to continue. Stepping back up to the board in front of him, the genius lifts the chalk to the right side of the board and begins to write out a list, making small circles to serve as bullet points for each separate item.

• _Mysophobia_; the fear of germs.

• _Nyctophobia_; the fear of the dark.

• _Acrophobia_; the fear of heights.

• _Entomophobia_; the fear of insects.

• _Arachnaphobia_; the fear of spiders/arachnids.

• _Coulrophobia_; the fear of clowns.

The genius continues his list, making a small bullet point before quickly writing down the phobia and it's meaning. He works on the list for a solid twenty minutes, becoming so absorbed in his work that he almost (almost) forgets about the fact that he is a mere ten feet away from being plunged into total and complete darkness. When he finally completes his list (or, rather, when he runs out of room on the blackboard) Sylvester takes a step back once again to view the list in it's entirety.

Exhaling gently, the human calculator focuses his attention on the initial word.

Fear.

He thinks back to the first time he ever felt fear. He remembers the day as clearly as he remembers what he had for breakfast for that morning (it's one of the downfalls to being a genius- you never forget anything... not even the things you try so desperately to).

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><p><em><strong>Flashback<strong>_

A ten year old Sylvester enters his too-quiet house as silently as he can manage. But the floors are old and creek under the boy's weight, despite his desperate attempt to keep his entrance unnoticed.

"Sylvester?" he hears the gruff voice of his father drift from the kitchen, and the boy sighs.

"Yes, dad?" he calls out, removing his backpack and slowly approaching the kitchen.

"Did you do what I told you, boy?" his father asks, never looking up from the newspaper in his hand. Sylvester looks over at his mother, who doesn't even acknowledge his presence, and swallows past the tightness in his throat.

"I-I tried, dad," he stammers, watching his father's body for a reaction.

"Tried?" the man says evenly, closing his paper and dropping it onto the table in front of him, "What do you mean, you tried?"

And there it is.

The tone.

The underlying anger and disappointment is obvious to Sylvester, and the young boy worries that his father will start shouting at any moment.

"Y-Yes, dad... I tried to play with the other kids, but..." Sylvester can feel the tears welling up into his eyes but he wills them away as he continues, "T-They didn't want me to play."

"Stop that God damned stuttering, boy," his father practically growls, and Sylvester flinches, knowing what comes next.

The shouting.

Always the shouting.

"Sorry dad," the boy tries to amend his mistake, swallowing roughly as he watches his father stand up from his seat at the table. The man approaches him and Sylvester is careful to not break eye contact with the him, knowing it will only serve to further his anger ("_Real men make eye contact, Sylvester! Don't you go acting like a wuss! I didn't raise a wuss!_").

"It's your fault, you know," his mother says calmly, finally acknowledging his existence.

"Yes, mom, I know."

"Your mother's right. It's your fault. Why are you such a... freak, boy?" his father says, crossing his arms as he stands in front of the boy.

Freak.

The word hangs in the air between Sylvester and his father as the little boy stares up at the man in front of him.

'_Freak?_' Sylvester thinks, the harsh word stinging as it sinks into his brain, forever ingraining itself in his memory.

The young genius exhales a shaky breath and tries his best to answer his father, but his voice cracks mid-way through and the tears begin flowing freely down his cheeks.

"Damn it, boy!" his father shouts, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder, "You are a Dodd! Dodd men do not cry!"

Sylvester shakes his head, his shoulder throbbing under his father's grip, as the tears continue to fall from his eyes, soaking his t-shirt.

"I'm sorry!" he shouts back, desperate to calm his father down before the screaming starts.

His eyes are blurry with tears, and his father is just a blurry image in front of him.

Sylvester doesn't see the man in front of him snarl in disgust at him.

Sylvester doesn't see the man in front of him raise his hand high above him.

Sylvester doesn't see the man in front of him bring his hand down hard and fast, aiming it right for the boy's cheek.

He doesn't see any of it, but he feels the sting of his father's smack on his cheek instantly, the force of the blow sending him tumbling to the tile of the kitchen floor.

And just like that, the tears stop leaking from his eyes and the genius freezes up.

He's shaking then, staring up at the man in front of him.

The man that's supposed to love him.

Sylvester tries to breathe, but his chest is too tight. He can't exhale or inhale, and within seconds he feels like he's suffocating under the weight of some enormous, invisible object. His face is burning from the smack and he's faintly aware that his elbow is oozing blood from the impact of his fall, but the only thing the young genius is able to focus on is the air that is not making it to his lungs.

"Sylvester!"

"Sylvester, hunny!"

"Damn it boy, breathe! You're turning blue for God's sake!"

And just like that, Sylvester sucks in a deep breath, puffing it out a second later. He looks up at his parents, hovering over him with panic lacing their voices (panic that sounds so _foreign_ and so _wrong _on their lips, like they don't really mean it), and then the weight is there again. Before it can consume him again, however, the genius stands up quickly.

"I have homework to do," he says as way of an excuse, "May I go to my room?"

His father nods silently, and the boy doesn't wait for any more confirmation before he spins and leaves the kitchen, grabbing his book-bag on his way to the stairs.

Once he reaches his bedroom, he shuts the door behind and tosses his bag onto his desk chair. He stares at the neatly made bed in front of him for a full minute before he makes his way over to it, not bothering to turn down the covers, and crawls onto it.

He cries himself to sleep that night, and every night thereafter.

But never does he ever allow his father to see him cry again.

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><p><strong><em>Present Day<em>**

Sylvester is snapped out of his memory by the sound of laughter coming from the upstairs loft. His eyes wander towards the metal stairs that lead to the upper level before they drift back to the blackboard in front of him.

He scans the list of phobia's he has written on the right side of the board and he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Grabbing the eraser from the tray attached to the chalk board, Sylvester quickly swipes it over the board, removing all traces of the list, before dropping the eraser back onto the metal shelf.

With the chalk still clutched in his hand, the human calculator steps towards the board for one final time and quickly scrawls something down.

"_Syngenesophobia_;," he reads aloud, voice shaky with emotion,"the fear of family members/relatives."

Once finished, Sylvester drops the chalk onto the tray next to the eraser and backs away from the blackboard. He turns towards the metal steps and quickly climbs them, focusing on the light coming from the loft above and not the darkness he's leaving behind.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>I'm so, so sorry about this. I feel so bad for putting Sly through that but... I do love how this reads and how it turned out, but that was such a touchy subject to cover. Like I said, I don't know what happened. It started out completely differently and this is where it ended up. I'm leery about posting this, in all honesty, because of the subject matter. Anyways. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, follows and reviews are always very much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

Oh. And all of the phobia names and definitions were found via Google and Wikipedia, so I don't know if they're entirely accurate or not.

The last little bit about the light from the loft and all that was intended to symbolize something- hope you guys are able to see what I was going for with it (and I hope it makes up for such a... weird/awful/painful/disturbing/other-adjective-you-see-fit chapter).


	7. Milk Duds

**AN: **This chapter is horridly rough and exceedingly short and for that I apologize greatly (and also for the lengthy wait- I really struggled with this one, I'm afraid).

**Disclaimer (which I've forgotten to include until this chapter whoops): **_I don't own any of the candies mentioned below nor do I own Scorpion, so don't sue because lawyer's are expensive and I can't afford one at the moment._

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><p><strong>Milk Duds<strong>

Toby likes candy. _Reesce Cups_, _Mike and Ike's_, _Snow Caps_- any candy ranging from the solid chocolates to the chewiest of gummy bears, Toby likes it all.

More than any other candy, though, the behaviorist loves _Milk Duds_.

He's not sure what it is about them, but Toby finds them positively addicting. He thinks it might be because the only truly good memories he has of his mother is when she would surprise him with a box of the chocolate covered caramels after school- not that he'd admit that to anyone other than himself- or maybe it's because he finds it completely hilarious when they get stuck to the roof of his mouth.

No matter what the reason, though, Toby loves them.

And, despite Paige's best efforts to get the entire team to eat healthier, the behaviorist always has stacks of the yellow boxes of candy stashed throughout the garage and sneaks the teeth-aching sweets whenever the opportunity arises.

Happy, on the other hand, cannot stand _Milk Duds_. The caramel sticks in her teeth, the chocolate is far too waxy and the aftertaste they leave is just all together too unpleasant for the tiny mechanic.

"I'm more of a solid chocolate kind of girl," she tells Toby one afternoon, after the behaviorist offers up a box from his stash.

Happy may despise the candies, but whenever she and Toby crawl into bed at the end of a long day, and all the behaviorist tastes of is the sticky sweet caramel, she can't really remember exactly why she was ever complaining to begin with.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>My apologies once again for such a short and poorly written chapter. The next one will be better, promise, heh.

Reviews, favorites and follows are, as always, greatly appreciated. (:


	8. Names

**AN: **Due to all the amazing feedback on the last chapter, despite my negativity towards it and it's length, here's another chapter for all of you lovely readers. (:

Oh, and due to some confusion that this might cause, I feel the need to state that this chapter is set a couple of years from now and does not (nor would it) fit into the series current timeline.

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><p><strong>Names<strong>

"What about Brian?"

"Brian O'Brien? Even you have to see how that's redundant."

"Redundant? Please, that is totally the coolest and most clever name ever!"

"Ohh, you know, the name Anna O'Brien is quite nice, I think, for a girl... Or Alex O'Brien for a boy!"

"You know, Alex is a unisex name, so it could totally work for a girl too..."

Walter smiles, shaking his head as he observes the scene in front of him. Paige appears at his side a few moments later, leaning her weight against him and resting her head on his chest. The genius' smile turns into a grin as he slips his arms around her waist, hands coming to rest on her swollen stomach.

"Are they still trying to name our child?" Paige asks, feigning annoyance. Walter hums softly in acknowledgment to her question, dropping his head to rest against her shoulder, his eyes never leaving the group of geniuses in front of them. Paige smiles, watching as Sylvester continues to animatedly suggest names for little girls while Toby critiques them. Happy stands next to the behaviorist, shaking her head back and forth as she offers name suggestions whenever there is a break in the men's bickering.

"You know," Walter says as his eyes shift off the the group of geniuses and drift down to rest on his girlfriend, "They're a bit crazy... But at least our child will have some amazing uncles and aunts."

Paige chuckles, nodding her head slowly in agreement, "True... Very, very true..."

A crashing noise from the direction of the trio catches the couple's attention and Walter watches as Happy smacks Toby's shoulder with enough force that it jolts the behaviorist forward while Sylvester snickers silently next to them. Paige laughs then, catching Walter's attention, and the genius looks down at the woman in his arms with a raised eyebrow.

"You know, you're right about them being amazing uncles and an amazing aunt and all," she says through her laughter, "But I don't think we should leave them unsupervised with our baby..."

Walter smiles then, nodding his head in agreement as he places a soft kiss to Paige's temple.

"We'll just make sure Ralph's around if we both have to go somewhere together and Cabe's unavailable to babysit," Walter mumbles against her skin and the liaison laughs again.

"Agreed."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Well, there we go! Another short one, but I'm personally fond of it. If you notice any mistakes in wording or spelling, do not feel bad about calling me out on it! I normally just skim my work before posting it (heh) and I don't have a beta or anything and if there's a mistake, I appreciate you letting me know so I can fix it. (:

Anyhow! Hope you enjoyed. Reviews and favorites are so very appreciated!


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